


Shameless

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: Imagine Tony & Bucky [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Is Even Worse, Bucky's Got Back, Flirting, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Masturbation, Pet Names, Poor Clint, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Tension, Tony Is Not Helping, talk dirty to me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 13:27:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3531032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="small">Prompt: imagine Tony and Bucky flirting everywhere, in the tower, out fighting random bad guy of the day over the coms, even out in public. it started as a game to see who could get the other to blush or fluster first but it dissolved into shameless flirting quickly. eventually it's Bucky who cracks first, pushing Tony up against a wall, kissing the living daylights out of him and using that super soldier strength to pick Tony up to hold against the wall. bonus if Clint walks in on them.</span>
</p><p>Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shameless

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted over on [imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/). Be sure to stop on over and also enjoy the amazing contributions of [Potrix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix), [27dragons](http://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons), [InnerCinema](http://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerCinema), and [kamaete](http://kamaete.tumblr.com/)!

Tony isn’t actually sure which of them starts it—he’d like to take credit, but if he’s learned anything it’s that Barnes is by no means a wilting flower. Besides, the start doesn’t matter as much as figuring out who’s going to actually finish it. 

It goes a little something like this.

"Oh, fuck me!" Tony shouts, throwing down the empty box of pop tarts. He’s going to complain about how this is the fourth time this week he’s gone to get one and found an empty box in the cabinet. Also, he felt they needed to be reminded that the things don’t grow on trees; he’s got an entire budget line dedicated to toaster pastries, that’s how weird his life is now.

Only, he doesn’t get to continue with his planned complaints, because as soon as the words leave his mouth, Bucky brushes past him to get to the coffee, much, much closer than is strictly necessary. As in, Tony says, “oh, fuck me!” and then hears, “anytime, any place, Stark,” all low and sultry right by his ear, while Bucky brushes against his ass on his way to fill his mug.

Tony actually feels his ears turn pink, but that’s only because he hasn’t had any coffee yet, and is still half asleep, and didn’t realize Bucky was in the room, and yes, okay, also because he had a mental flash of Bucky bending him over the breakfast table and…

That’s becoming a problem. Tony tries to think unsexy thoughts, even as he gives Bucky the bedroom eyes, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, and dropping him a wink. “Careful, I might take you up on that,” he says as he heads back to the workshop.

No way was he going to be the one to back down. No way, no how.

+

It wasn’t always like this between them. He’s pretty sure there was about a week and a half after Steve had introduced them that he and Bucky just sort of pointedly ignored each other, up until they couldn’t anymore due to being thrown into the field together.

Maybe that was when it started, actually, the very first time they’d fought on the same side.

Tony had landed only to find Bucky and Natasha hadn’t actually left him anything to do but watch, and so he’d decided to alleviate his boredom by needling the newcomer.

“Gotta say, your ass looks  _fantastic_  in the leather.”

Bucky whirled around, apparently intent on defending Nat’s honor, when she ruined the moment for him by snorting, and saying, “He’s talking to you.”

So, okay, fine, maybe Tony  _had_  been the one to start it, but Bucky, to his utmost surprise and delight, didn’t miss a beat. He just tossed his unconscious opponent to the ground, and grinned.

“Looks even better in nothing at all.”

And then he’d walked away with a bit of a roll to his hips, so that, really, Tony had no choice but to wolf whistle and play “Baby Got Back” through the suit’s PA system while watching him go.

Back home a couple of hours later, he’d all but forgotten about it until Bucky sauntered into the room still slightly damp from his shower, white tank top clinging to his skin as if it was painted on. Tony couldn’t help but notice that Bucky’s ass  _also_  looked fantastic in soft, well worn denim. The rest of him was pretty fantastic looking, too, what with the broad shoulders, and the washboard abs, and that shiny, shiny arm.

Oh, and the wicked blue eyes, and cheeky grin. Tony forgot about those until he looked up, realized he’d been caught out staring. So he’d kissed his fingertips and tossed the kiss away, saying, “Bellissimo!” admittedly surprised when  _this_  got Barnes all momentarily pink in the cheeks.

That was probably the real start of it, because flustered looked good on Bucky, and so Tony, greedy bastard that he was, had immediately wanted more.

It’s worth noting that had Barnes indicated at any point whatsoever that Tony’s behavior actually made him uncomfortable, he would have stopped. They lived together, worked together, and fought together, and he actually had a lot of respect for the way Barnes had bounced back from all the shit life had tossed at him. It was admirable.

But Bucky just flirted back, gave as good as he got, and so, naturally, things simply escalated from there.

+

It wasn’t just blowing each other kisses, or exchanging cat calls, or Tony changing Bucky’s call sign to sugar britches, or Bucky calling him doll, and sweetheart, and kitten, and muffin, or—there were a lot of little names Bucky tended to call him, and Tony enjoyed them all far too much for a man of his age.

No, it was worse—or better depending on your point of view—like the time he’d been boring people to death geeking out with Steve over a cherry 1934 Pontiac straight-8 engine someone was trying to unload online, and Bucky had actually made him speechless when he’d interjected, “I’ve got a ‘straight eight’ you can play with anytime, Stark.”

It’d taken him a moment to recover, but he’d countered with, “Hmm, I know my way around engines, Barnes, and you’re a two-stroke at best.”

Clint groaned, Steve found something especially interesting to look at on his sleeve, Natasha grumbled under her breath in Russian, while Thor continued watching his soap opera without batting an eye.

“Guess you’ll only know for sure if you take me for a ride.”

Tony would be a lying liar if he said he hadn’t thought about just that while alone in bed later that night. He didn’t even bother with porn anymore, just closed his eyes and used the good old imagination, Bucky Barnes taking center stage in each and every one of his jerk off fantasies.

+

If it was just flirting, it would be easier. Tony flirts on autopilot, but feelings have always been tricky for him. They’re infectious.

They run into one another at the oddest times, like three in the morning, out on the roof, Bucky wearing nothing but his uniform pants, holding a bottle of Tony’s most expensive whiskey.

"I’ve had fantasies that start like this," Tony says.

Bucky laughs, but there’s little mirth in the thing. Tony notes the way he quickly wipes at his eyes, and puts two and two together.

"Mind if I join you?" Tony asks, helping himself to the bottle before Bucky can answer. "It’s one of  _those_  nights.”

Bucky whirls on him, but maybe he sees something in Tony’s eyes, because he blinks, and just watches as Tony takes a pull from the bottle.

"Every once in awhile, the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. Coming up here helps." 

Bucky breathes in and out, in and out, his hair whipping around his face, and Tony wonders how long he’s been out here, and if he’s cold.

"Sounds familiar."

Tony offers him the bottle back, then knocks his shoulder against Bucky’s. “Life, am I right?”

Bucky stares at him like he’s insane, but then he’s laughing, a real laugh, and Tony just shrugs, and smiles back. He throws his arm around Tony’s shoulders, and they watch the sun come up together, and Tony has many, many feelings about this.

+

“Watch your six, sugar puss!”

Barnes spins, takes out the AIM soldiers, saying, “Sorry, fellas, only one I want taking me from behind is Iron Man,” and then blows a kiss in Tony’s direction.

“Guys, for the hundredth time,” and Steve sounds exasperated, “not on the comms.”

“Just fuck already,” Barton chimes in, jumping off the roof.

“Hawkeye!”

“C’mon, Cap, everyone’s thinking it.” He pauses to blow something up. “They’re driving me batty.”

Which, okay, yes, he can see how their flirting is probably annoying for the rest of the gang. Tony resolves to dial it down, but that night when they go out to dinner, Bucky slides into the booth beside him. When he’s not eating, he has his arm stretched out along the back, practically around Tony’s shoulders, and makes a point of keeping up a semi-private conversation with his mouth all but against Tony’s ear.

So, yes, obviously, the flirting continues. They talk almost exclusively with each other all night, steal food from each other’s plates, feel the need to try each other’s drinks, and there is enough of an easy ebb and flow to it all that it isn’t until he’s sucking whipped cream off of Bucky’s finger that Tony realizes everyone has stopped talking and is just staring at them.

So much for dialing it down.

Steve glares, so Bucky clears his throat, removes his arm from behind Tony, tucks his head down, and finishes eating his dessert. Tony returns to his coffee, fishes out his phone, and slowly conversation resumes around them.

But Bucky’s eyes are bright with mischief, and aimed entirely at Tony when he licks his spoon clean after he’s done. And, for his part, Tony ‘accidentally’ brushes all along the outside of Bucky’s denim clad thigh while putting his phone back in his pocket. The smouldering look he gets from Barnes in response makes certain bits of his anatomy stand up at attention, so much so that he opts to carry his jacket in front of him instead of wearing it out of the restaurant.

Barnes knows exactly what’s up—pun absolutely intended—and when he catches Tony watching him during the walk to the car, makes a point of adjusting himself while grinning wolfishly.

+

Tony has only been in Japan for three hours before he caves in, snaps a picture of his empty hotel room bed, and texts it to Bucky along with the message, “Wish you were here.”

This is the first he’s travelled outside of the United States since Bucky came to live with them, and it’d been sort of surprising, how quickly he found himself missing Barnes. The flight would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining if he’d been along, that much was certain.

It’s twenty eight minutes before he receives a reply, just long enough for him to begin wondering if he’d taken things too far, but then his phone chirps and…

_I’ll just keep this one warm for you while you’re gone._

Tony finds himself staring at the message, which is accompanied by a photo of his own bed, sheets still rumpled from the night before. The t-shirt and jeans on the bed are most definitely not his, though, and Tony has to hand it to Bucky—he’s the king of one-upmanship.

He can’t back down now, so Tony fires off a YouTube link to the Divinyls “I Touch Myself.”

It’s a couple minutes of staring at his phone anxiously, but then another photo arrives. A selfie. Of Barnes. In his bed. Naked, or so it seems. Tony has to sit down, because he’s deeply affected by the image of all that muscled, bared, Bucky Barnes flesh lounging in his bed, thin top sheet pooled just below his navel. He’s using the right hand to take the picture, and the shiny left hand is beneath the sheet, presumably wrapped around his dick. The message reads:

_Seems like we have something else in common._

Tony almost flies back to New York, but that would mean losing their game of sexual chicken in the biggest, most obvious way possible. Part of him is still worried that if he actually makes a move, Barnes will laugh and shoot him down, because the guy is clever, and funny, and drop-dead gorgeous, and he could do a hell of a lot better than someone on the wrong side of forty.

Might as well live dangerously, though, so Tony loses the suit jacket, unbuttons his shirt, rolls up the sleeves, loosens but leaves the tie on to hang off-kilter, unzips his pants, hooks a thumb into the waistband of his criminally expensive underwear, and tugs down a bit. After several minutes getting the angles and lighting just right, he sends the photo.

_Try not to get my sheets too sticky._

This accomplished, he pulls back up the picture of Bucky in his bed, and he’s in the middle of jerking off when another comes through, closer up this time. Bucky’s head is resting on his pillow, a sleepy sort of satisfied look on his face as he smiles into the camera.

_Oops. Too late._

And just like that, Tony is pushed right over the edge. By a smile.

It’s probably time to admit his heart has been playing an entirely different game of chicken.

+

He’s made up his mind. He can’t take it anymore, and if that means he has to be the one to back down, then so be it. Tony is outmatched, and he’s man enough to admit that now.

Tony spends the entire flight home thinking about what to say, and quite a bit of time wondering how the hell he’ll cope when he’s shot down. He’s so focused on his game plan that when he gets home he manages to walk face first into Bucky before realizing the guy is standing there.

There’s a look in Bucky’s eyes, and this is really the only warning he gets, because when he opens his mouth to say, “Hey, cupcake,” Tony is interrupted. By tongue. As in, Bucky removes Tony’s travel bag from his shoulder, tosses it aside, shoves him against the wall, and kisses him.

“Oh thank fuck,” Tony gasps, sliding his hands into Bucky’s hair, and kissing back for all he’s worth.

They’ve knocked over a table and lamp, but Tony doesn’t care, because Bucky has effortlessly lifted him off of the ground, so that Tony can wrap his legs around him, and now he’s pinned between the wall and Bucky.

Bucky kisses like a forest fire, blazing hot and all consuming, and Tony can only make amazed, appreciative noises and rut against him, breathing heavily. “I missed you,” Bucky groans, and that’s amazing right there, so Tony sucks on Bucky’s lower lip and says, “missed you, too,” and kisses him back.

“GAH!”

Bucky pauses in his ass squeezing, and starts licking and sucking the spot just beneath Tony’s ear, which means he’s the one who is left to respond to Clint. Barton is standing there with his mouth hanging open, a dropped carton of chocolate milk on the floor in front of him, looking traumatized.

“What? We’re taking your advice,” Tony says. Bucky’s tongue wriggles into his ear and that should be gross, but instead it makes his balls tingle, and Tony whimpers as he shamelessly rubs himself against Bucky.

"I’m telling," Clint yells as he runs away. "Cap, they’re getting it on in the hallway, and I’m  _not_  getting laid, so this is criminally unfair!”

Steve shouts, “Fellas, there are plenty of rooms in the Tower, stop teasing Clint.”

Which is a fair point. “Race you to my bedroom?” Tony asks.

"No way I’m letting you out of my clutches now, sweetheart," he growls, and opts to toss Tony over his shoulder instead.

Later, when he finally gets to enjoy Bucky’s sleepy, fucked out smile up close and personal, Tony bursts out laughing.

Bucky arches an eyebrow, but before he can ask, Tony says, “you weren’t kidding about that straight eight.”


End file.
